


Truth and Lies

by Strawberrywaltz



Series: There's No Need To Play With My Heart [2]
Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: Catherine is Evil, F/M, He certainly doesn't trust One, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Or who to trust, Slow Burn One/Three, Three doesn't know what the fuck is going on, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:03:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberrywaltz/pseuds/Strawberrywaltz
Summary: It was one thing to hurt someone who had tried to kill or hurt someone else – or who was generally in the way – but it was a different kind of evil to hurt someone who just wanted the pain to stop.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this way before season two started. I posted the prequel to this story and it got like...a total of 75 hits, which was a little sad, but alas. So I didn't post the rest of the story...which I decided today was a shame. Because it's a good story. 
> 
> Chapter Three of 'A Little Death' will be coming to you as soon as I read it over. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Marcus Boone was out of options. The Raza was late and he was out of money and time. Marcus’s wounds from the last job had mostly healed. Mostly. The fragment of metal had cut him deep across his back slicing through muscle and bruising bone. The damned robot had told him he had been lucky. His spine hadn’t snapped– it only felt like it had. The gash the sharp metal had left had been stitched, but he was in no condition to continue with the crew. Portia promised they’d be back for him. 

The Raza was a small, but loyal crew. Marcus believed they would return – eventually. That belief wavered a bit more each day. He was getting desperate. Marcus needed to do something. His guns were feeling neglected. 

A contact had informed Marcus about a possible high reward job. Mostly it was described as baby-sitting, but there was an element of adding dirt to the shine. Marcus wasn’t a good guy. He’d accepted that fact a long time ago. Sure, he had a bit of a hero streak going with Sarah, but he’d never been considered a ‘good’ guy. 

With the kind of money being offered, Marcus might even be able to find a cure for the sleeping woman. When the Raza returned. If the Raza returned. 

“I’ve heard promising things about you, Mr. Boone.” Catherine Moss said when they met. A lawyer was present, sitting smug across from Marcus. A contract lay out on the table, a pen beside it. Marcus scanned the document lazily. It was a disclosure form. There were a lot of words and Marcus didn’t feel like reading the entire thing. 

“How do I get paid and how much.” Marcus asked after a moment of staring blankly at the document. Payment was really the only thing he cared about. Everything else he’d do without question. 

“Each day you’ll be paid a regular sum of five-hundred credits for your services.” The lawyer said. “If you are asked to do something more than the normal day to day requirements and you do it successfully, your pay will increase for that day.” 

Marcus raised an eyebrow. That was a lot of credits. A lot, a lot. Maybe he didn’t need the Raza to come get him after all. Well, he needed Sarah, but other then that… 

“Well, can’t argue with that kind of money.” Marcus grinned and picked up the pen, scratching his signature across the dotted line. 

Catherine stood behind the lawyer with a bright smile. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

With a raised eyebrow Marcus stood. He hadn’t expected to start so soon, but he didn’t mind. The sooner he started working the faster those credits would be his. 

“Lead the way.” Marcus grinned and Catherine did so, sweeping out of the room with unnatural grace. She was a beautiful woman. Rich and powerful. Watching her go about her every day business wouldn’t be terrible. Not many people would likely try to kill a woman like this. Besides, if she died the universe would mourn the loss of the curve of her ass and the size of her tits. 

“The ship has many restricted areas.” Catherine explained as they walked down the decorated hallway. “A handbook will be given to you and I will make sure someone meets with you later tonight. To go over things in more detail.” 

Compared to the Raza, Catherine Moss’s ship was homey. Unless you squinted, you couldn’t even see the cold metal behind the illusion that had been created. It wasn’t over done, either. Just enough to make you think you were in a planet side home. 

They entered a room with a keypad lock on the door. Marcus noted the numbers, but frowned when he saw it also had a sensor pad. Whatever treasures were hidden inside would be off limits without the right authorization. Perhaps he could con his way into – 

A shirtless man hung by chains in the center of the room. All thoughts of wanting access to the room fled Marcus’s mind as they stepped inside. The man’s skin was pale and littered with burn marks and scratches. 

“This is my husband.” Catherine announced. The man flinched at the sound of her voice. His chin tipped up from where it rested against his chest and piercing green eyes met Marcus’s blue gaze. Derrick Moss. Marcus suddenly wished he’d read the contract. Had he just become part of a rich couple’s kinky sex fantasy? 

Derrick Moss held his gaze for a moment before he let his chin drop back down. His toes hovered just above the ground – shoeless. Ribs protruded under frail skin making Marcus wonder how long the younger man had been in the room, hanging there. 

“He and I also have a contract.” Catherine continued. “Not unlike yours.” She added with a hint of warning. “As you can see, I am very serious about my contracts. I get very angry when someone breaks their promises to me.” Her voice was as light as a feather, coy and playful as she stepped closer to her vulnerable husband. The man flinched away ever so slightly, making his broken body sway. 

“What did he do?” Marcus risked the question. He held no sympathy in his voice. “Cheat on you?” 

“No.” Catherine laughed musically. “He tried to run away.” 

Her fingers trailed down the hanging man’s spine and Marcus watched as Derrick Moss squirmed under her touch. 

So this was the dirty work he’d been promised. 

“What would you like me to do?” Marcus asked – forcing himself to sound bored. He needed to get ahold of the contract he had signed. That would be his first priority after he was done – doing whatever this crazy woman wanted. There was a difference between being a bad guy and being a sadist. Marcus was no sadist. 

“I want you to finish his punishment for me. Twenty lashes.” Catherine moved to a wall filled with various torture devices and picked up a coiled whip. “If I am pleased with your work you will start immediately. I’ll have you bring him to the infirmary. We have a banquet tonight. You will attend as his new bodyguard. You will be in charge of making sure he doesn’t dare try to escape again.” 

Marcus took hold of the offered weapon and frowned at the old fashion device. 

“Can’t I just shoot him?” Marcus asked as he uncoiled the whip and tried to figure out exactly how to use the thing. Pointedly he tried not to think about how he was going to use the weapon on a helpless, injured man. It was one thing to hurt someone who had tried to kill or hurt someone else – or who was generally in the way – but it was a different kind of evil to hurt someone who just wanted the pain to stop. 

“Don’t worry, it’s easy to learn.” Catherine smiled. The kindness on her face as she took the whip back didn’t sit right with Marcus. The woman was cunning – smart and dark-hearted. 

“Watch.” She said and pulled the whip back and let it fly. The leather slashed across Derrick Moss’s chest. The injured man let out a short cry, flinching violently. The line left was red against the paleness of the man’s skin, but it hadn’t drawn blood. Yet. 

“Right.” Marcus nodded and accepted the whip back. He circled around the man and found himself positioned at Derrick Moss’s back. He wanted to get the torture over with and Marcus kind of thought maybe Derrick Moss wanted to get it over with as well. “How much do you want me to hurt him?” Marcus asked as he readied his first swing. 

“Don’t kill him.” Catherine answered flippantly. 

“Easy enough.” Marcus nodded and drew his hand back. He missed. Spectacularly. The second time Marcus accidently managed to hit himself. Catherine laughed musically behind him. The first time he managed to hit Derrick Moss, it was around his ankle. Derrick grunted in pain as the impact caused him to sway. Marcus had to untangle the wipe from abused skin. 

“Do you need a second demonstration?” Catherine asked sweetly. She was mocking him. Three growled, he let the wipe fly again without answering. 

The first direct hit across his back caused Derrick to flinch, but not scream. In his head, Marcus counted. After the third strike Derrick wasn’t the only one feeling the pain. Marcus’s mostly healed wound was protesting the abuse. It took a lot of effort to ignore the pain and continue. 

Derrick Moss screamed or cried out with every strike. Marcus grunted and exhaled to keep from joining him. By the time the last strike flew he younger man’s back was shredded and bleeding. Marcus was drenched in sweat and grateful for his black shirt. He looked over the damage he’d caused the helpless man with little remorse showing on his face. 

“One left.” Catherine tipped her head in amusement. Marcus had stopped on the ninetieth strike, expecting Catherine’s little demonstration to have counted towards the total.

With a hardened shrug Marcus sent the whip flying a final time – blood droplets splattered across the floor as the whip pulled away from the damage, adding to the red already smeared on stretch of concrete between their bodies. 

“Good.” Catherine praised him and stepped closer to inspect the carnage. “I’ll send someone to help you find the infirmary. I hope you understand, Mr. Boone, it is in your best interest to keep him in line. If he tries to escape on your watch, well, I would hate to terminate you.” 

With the quiet threat laid plain, Catherine Moss turned and left the room. 

Terminate meant ‘dead.’ Marcus growled a little as he slapped the whip down on the table and leaned against the stable surface. This was not turning out to be the dream job he had hoped it would be. 

A groan caught his attention and he looked over at Derrick Moss, half conscious as he hung limp from the chains. 

Marcus pushed away from the table and approached the injured man. Green eyes tracked his movements warily under dark eyelashes. Marcus made a face, unsure of how to get the carcass of a man down without getting covered in blood in the process. 

“Chain release.” Derrick croaked and twisted his head a little to look off to the side. Marcus followed his eye line and saw what the billionaire meant. 

“Okay.” Marcus narrowed his eyes and moved to pull the lever. Derrick dropped and hit the ground with a throaty grunt. Although Marcus winced in brief sympathy, he didn’t apologize or move to help the man. His back was incredibly sore, probably not as much as Derrick’s, but showing empathy wouldn’t be beneficial. 

Marcus eyed the stranger. “Any idea of where the keys to the cuffs are?” 

“Yeah.” Derrick breathed. “Give – me a minute.” 

Marcus raised an eyebrow. There was no distain in the younger man’s voice. No hate or anger. It was – unnerving. 

“Okay.” Marcus shifted his weight from one foot to the other and watched the man shiver in a pile of limbs at his feet. “So, while you have your moment, care to share what the fuck is going on here?” 

A dark chuckle escaped the back of Derrick’s throat. “You didn’t read the contract, did you?” Green eyes looked up at Marcus. No humor lit the man’s face. It was unsettling how lifeless the man looked. 

The media had created a picture of the Moss family and held them at the same level as royalty. Derrick Moss was a prince among men – always smiling and so damned happy. This shell of a man didn’t fit with that image at all. 

“Don’t worry.” Derrick groaned and pushed himself up into a shaky seated position. “The last guy didn’t read the contract either.” 

“And what happened to him?” Marcus asked. 

Derrick’s emotionless face turned pained. “He was terminated.” The raw edges of the word made Marcus want to punch something. He was screwed. 

“Well, you aren’t escaping under my watch.” Marcus announced and grabbed Derrick by the arms – one of the less blood-drenched areas of the man’s body, and pulled him onto buckling knees. 

“Okay.” Derrick muttered as he was forced into a chair. The broken man slumped back with a painful wince. Apparently the exhaustion outweighed the pain of leaning against his damaged back. 

“The keys?” Marcus demanded tensely. He rolled his own aching shoulders. Now that the muscles of his back weren’t being overtaxed the pain was fading.

“You find them.” Derrick snapped back. Marcus raised an eyebrow. Maybe the guy had some fight left after all. 

With a glare, Marcus grumbled to himself as he resumed his search. The door slid open a few minutes later. A tall man entered the room and Derrick shrunk a little. Marcus frowned at the injured man’s reaction and turned to the stranger. 

“She sure did a number on him this time, didn’t she?” The tall man asked as he looked down at Derrick from an upturned nose. Instantly Marcus hated the guy. 

“No shit.” Marcus answered. “Where are the keys to the cuffs?” 

“There is no reason to free him.” The man shrugged and nodded to Derrick. “There isn’t much time to get him ready before the banquet. Bring him. Don’t worry about your – clothes.” The man cringed as he formed the word. Like what Marcus was wearing rags. Rich people sucked. It was the reason Marcus enjoyed stealing from them. “We’ll supply you with something more, appropriate.”

“Right.” Marcus said and moved to gather Derrick back up to his feet. The injured man moaned when Marcus treated him roughly in his anger – a brief ping of guilt hit Marcus as they started down the hallway. 

The infirmary wasn’t far. A balding man was waiting for them. He was older. What little hair he had left was colored silver. 

“Back again, I see.” The man sighed as Derrick was lead to the exam table. Marcus kept Derrick sitting upright since he had injuries on his back and front. 

“Keys?” The silver-haired man asked the tall man. 

“I’ll attach him properly.” The tall man said and approached the exam table. Marcus felt Derrick flinch ever so slightly at the man’s approach. Whoever this man was, he clearly made the rich-billionaire-punching-bag feel nervous. New restraints were revealed and replaced the simple cuffs. When the tall man was finished Derrick was bound in retractable chains. Their current length allowed the injured man to sit upright, but a press of a button would pull him back, forcing him to lay down. 

Marcus continued to hold Derrick’s trembling body upright as Dr. Silver worked. The tall man stayed close by, his dark eyes fixed hungrily on Derrick who pointedly averted his gaze. 

“It shouldn’t take long to fix these up.” The doctor announced after his initial examination was completed. “Tell Catherine he’ll be ready in time.” 

Tall man nodded and looked at Marcus. “I’ll send the tailor, she’ll do something about your – attire.” Tall man glanced one last time at Derrick before he left the room. 

Dr. Silver shivered. “It got a little chilly in here, didn’t it? Mr. Anderson has that effect. I’m Dr. Shaw.” The doctor didn’t offer his hand and Marcus didn’t want to risk letting Derrick go – the younger man was half asleep in his arms. 

“Marcus Boone.” 

“You’ll have your hands full with this one.” Dr. Shaw said as he gathered a few devices and altered their settings. “Derrick used to be so well behaved.” The doctor shook his head as he worked. “Perhaps after this latest misadventure things will change for the better.” 

The sick part was that the doctor truly seemed to believe that obedience would be in Derrick’s best interest. Not that it was any of Marcus’s business. No, he planned on getting ahold of his contract and figuring out exactly what was required of him before he got himself killed. 

Dr. Shaw turned on of the devices onto Derrick’s torn back and the injured man gasped, clutching at Marcus’s arms weakly. Marcus would have pulled away, if he were more certain that the younger man wouldn’t fall off the table and injure himself further. 

“What is that?” Marcus asked. 

“It’s something I invented.” The Doctor said, pleased that Marcus had asked. “It repairs the skin leaving no traces of the wounds. It’s very painful, but it does wonders. The skin is still sensitive to pain once the healing process is finished, but it leaves no scars.” 

“Couldn’t you give him some sort of painkiller?” Marcus asked, appalled at the whimpering noises coming from the man in his arms. If it weren’t for those noises Marcus might have asked if the doctor could use the device on his own back. 

“No need.” Dr. Shaw said as he worked. A grueling hour later and Derrick lay unconscious on the exam table – healed. The seamstress, a charming young girl name Rissa had come and gone somewhere between Marcus’s treatment. She had a worried eye fixed on Derrick the entire visit, but otherwise ignored what was happening. 

This place was a nightmare, Marcus decided as Anderson returned with two bundles of clothes. 

“Change into these.” Anderson told Marcus who silently took the offered clothes and stripped out of his blood shirt. 

“Not here.” The tall man nearly shouted in disgust. “Through there. Take a shower as well. You’ll need to be presentable tonight.” 

Marcus shrugged and grabbed what he’d been given and headed towards where the infirmary shower was located.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> (not beta'd)

Twenty minutes later Marcus stepped out of the shower followed by a cloud of steam. The hot water had unwound the painful tension in his shoulders and back. Hopefully the old-fashion heat treatment would help stave off the soreness Marcus would likely feel the following day. 

It had taken a bit of time to wash the blood from his skin. Once he’d toweled off, Marcus dressed himself in the clothes he’d been given. He felt awkward in the fancy material – a suit. Marcus had only worn a suit when he had to for a job. It fit him well, but he missed the comfort of his own clothes.

A nurse came and gathered Marcus’s blood stained clothes and he stopped her. “You clean those and bring them back to me, got it?” He asked. She looked unsure, but nodded – frightened. Marcus watched her leave and wondered if he could at least get his jacket back. It had been difficult, but Marcus had managed to strap on his holsters covertly under his suit. Armed and mostly ready Marcus headed back.

Anderson was adjusting his slacks when Marcus reentered the room. Marcus eyed him suspiciously, but let it go. Marcus didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to get involved. It wasn’t his responsibility to fix this very screwed up situation. 

In the future Marcus would read any contracts he signed. Twice. 

Derrick was dressed in a suit not too different to the one Marcus had been given. The man’s eyes were closed, but his face was too tense to be asleep. 

“Are you here for a reason?” Marcus asked defensively. 

“To prepare you for your job.” Anderson asked with less venom than before. Like he had a chance to unwind. Marcus glanced at Derrick again and blocked any thoughts from becoming ideas. 

Marcus looked back at Anderson and lifted an eyebrow. “Okay.” 

“Its simple, really. You are to act as a shadow, keep your distance, but don’t allow yourself to lose sight of him. If anyone endangers the Moss’s you will act and end the threat. Since this is a charity function, it’s doubtful that you will have to worry about anything other than Mr. Moss and his inability to follow directions.” 

Marcus watched as Derrick turned his head away from where Anderson stood. 

“Now, I’ll open his cuffs. I think he’s learned his lesson, for now.” Anderson said and stepped forward to unlock the chains. Derrick didn’t move at first, not until Anderson stood back. “The shuttle leaves in fifteen minutes. Don’t be late.” 

The instructions were directed at Derrick instead of Marcus, which was fine for the mercenary. 

“It’s a wonder why you wanted to leave this place.” Marcus said dryly as Derrick pushed himself off the table to stand. 

“We’d better go.” Derrick sighed, his body sagged a moment before he straightened. A bright smile replaced the look of defeat and Marcus blinked. The total change was disturbing. Gone was the broken man and here to replace him was the man from the photos. Royalty. 

“Mr. Anderson didn’t lie.” Derrick shrugged an elegant shoulder. “The charity functions are pretty easy. You should fit in easy enough.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think this job is for me.” Marcus admitted. 

Derrick frowned, but nodded. “Then I’ll make sure you escape.” 

“What?” Marcus scowled back. “What the hell does that even mean?” 

“The contract.” Derrick said patiently, his mask not slipping an inch. “I’ll get you a copy, when you read it you’ll understand things better. Meg owes me a favor.” He shrugged and glided from the room and down the hallway. Marcus followed warily. 

“Um, you’re smiling.” Marcus couldn’t help but saying. 

Derrick smiled brighter and looked at Marcus. “I have to. It’s part of the deal.” 

“Deal?” Marcus frowned. 

“You have your contract, I have mine.” Derrick shrugged a shoulder. “The situation of my contract changed a few months ago. I wanted out – Catherine isn’t ready for the contract to end. There were things I wasn’t aware of when I signed.” He shrugged. “You probably understand the feeling.” 

“Who reads contracts, anyway?” Marcus could enjoy the irony. 

Derrick shrugged again. “I did read it, but I didn’t have much of a choice at the time.” 

Marcus frowned. “If you’re looking for sympathy, you aren’t going to get any from me.” 

“I’m not asking for sympathy. I don’t expect you to help me. I don’t want your help.” Derrick turned his eyes forward. “I’ll do what I can to help you out, but I need you to know it won’t be easy.” 

“No offense, but you can’t even get yourself out – how the hell are you planning to help me?” 

“There is a pretty big difference between you and I.” Derrick flashed a smile. “She doesn’t need you.” 

Marcus frowned, but nodded. “Point taken, but I can do this on my own, thanks.” 

“Okay.” Derrick said and stopped in front of a door. He took a calming breath, readjusted his smile and nodded towards Marcus. “She doesn’t like guards to talk at functions. Don’t drink any alcohol, but you can eat something if you don’t make a show of it. Just stick to the shadows and you’ll be fine.” Before Marcus could think of a witty comment, Derrick opened the door and smiled at his waiting wife who grinned back and held out her hand for his. 

Something inside of Marcus stretched as he witnessed the lie unfold. It was sickening. Silently Marcus boarded the shuttle with the happy couple. Anderson joined them as well as a few other people who chatted happily together. Marcus wondered who knew the secret and who had been fooled by the act. 

During the banquet, which was quiet and dull, Marcus found himself wondering how the hell this all started. How many people had been hired to watch Derrick Moss and keep him in line by request of his certifiable wife? Why the hell had someone so beautiful and charismatic like Derrick Moss given his life away to such a horrible creature? 

Marcus tried to push the questions away. It didn’t matter because he wasn’t planning on staying. He just needed to figure things out to the point where he could escape. 

When the night came to an end the group returned to the shuttle. Catherine turned to Marcus after they docked. 

“You’ve been given the room next to Derrick’s.” She said. “He’ll show you the way.” 

Derrick nodded, kissed her hand and waited for her to leave. Derrick’s smile faded the further Catherine walked. The slump of defeat reappeared. Derrick looked exhausted – pale. Marcus noted that he hadn’t eaten anything at the function. He’d carried a glass of champagne around, but had barely had a chance to drink as he smiled and chatted with various important looking people. Catherine was constantly at his side. Never letting his arm go. Never setting her husband free. 

“You have a knack for acting.” Marcus commented as they walked through the halls of the ship. 

Derrick dipped his head. “I’ve been given lessons.” It wasn’t said as a joke. 

The underlying meaning of the word made Marcus shiver. Lessons – what happened if the man had made mistakes? More punishment like the torture Derrick had received for trying to escape? 

“Right.” Marcus shook his head. “You’re still not going to get any sympathy from me.” 

“I’m not going to cry about it.” Derrick flashed a real smile at Marcus – it stole his breath away. 

They arrived a moment later. 

“This is your room.” Derrick shrugged a shoulder. “Or it’s the room where the other guards lived.” 

“How many – ”

“Two.” Derrick answered with a haunted look in his eyes. 

“Right.” Not as many as Marcus thought there had been. “I’m lucky number three.” 

Derrick nodded and opened the door for Marcus. They entered the room together. It wasn’t much grander than Marcus’s room on the Raza. It was mostly impersonal, but there were a few touches left behind by it’s previous occupants. 

Derrick walked through the room to another door and opened it. “This is my room.” He explained. “The door locks on your side. You can program a new code if you’d like. I won’t be able to get out once its set.” 

“What about the other entrance?” Marcus asked with suspicious eyes. 

“It’s always locked. Catherine and Anderson are the only people who know the code to that door.” Derrick answered and stepped into his room. Curious, Marcus followed. Derrick’s room had a few personal touches, but in all honestly it wasn’t much different than the room Marcus had been assigned. 

“That makes sense, I guess.” Marcus commented. “Keeps you confined.” 

Derrick nodded and sat down on the chair by the desk. “Meg will bring your contract by later.” 

Marcus frowned. “When the hell did you manage to ask that?” 

A small smile formed on Derrick’s lips. “I’ve been living like this for more than two years. I have my ways.” 

“Right.” Marcus frowned. He was at a disadvantage. Derrick was cleverer than he looked. This all could be an act to gain sympathy. “How do I know you’re not setting me up?” 

“I’ve witnessed two people die because of me.” Derrick answered. “One was a dear friend. I won’t go through that again. If I can’t escape – I can at least help you regain your freedom.” 

It was difficult to not feel skeptical about Derrick’s motives. Marcus had witnessed the man when he was pretending. He was a flawless actor. For some reason, however, Marcus wanted to believe Derrick. It was stupid and dangerous and it left Marcus fighting to hold onto his distrust. 

“Sure.” Marcus frowned. “Well, don’t think that any of this will make me want to save you. When I’m out, I’m out.” 

“I know.” Derrick offered a faint smile. “I think its probably for the best. Even if I did manage to escape, Catherine would find me soon enough.” Derrick admitted. “It was a foolish dream, stupid.” But understandable, Marcus thought – how many times had the man been tortured? Derrick continued. “I’ll die here. Death will be my freedom.” He was so accepting it actually made Marcus mad. 

Don’t get involved, Marcus reminded himself. Not your circus, Marcus thought. Not your monkeys. 

“I’ll get you out, first.” Derrick promised and stood. “I’m actually a little tired.” Exhausted, Marcus corrected the younger man silently. “I think I’ll turn in for the night. You can lock the door.” Derrick said and motioned towards the door. 

Marcus took the hint and nodded. Without a word he left Derrick’s room and closed the door between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by!


	3. Chapter 3

Marcus was bored. On the Raza he could kill time in the gym. Here he had to baby-sit twenty-four seven. Apparently. Honestly Marcus had no clue what the hell he was doing. Since Derrick was technically locked in his room, Marcus figured he could leave, but he didn’t trust the guy. And he did trust the guy. It was the indecision that made Marcus stay put. 

He paced for a bit, hands on his hips as he considered his situation. A crazy bitch. A beaten up guy who was excellent at lying when he needed to – and he needed to. No allies, at least not at a convenient distance away. There was no rescue coming. Marcus had gotten himself into this mess, he’d get himself out – eventually. 

A chime at the door caught Marcus’s attention. So Derrick had in fact gotten someone named Meg to – 

The door opened revealing someone who definitely did not have breasts. 

Anderson breezed into the room without being invited in. So he wasn’t a vampire – Marcus thought darkly as he eyed the man. 

“So you are the new guard.” Anderson said as he turned to face Marcus. 

“Yep.” Marcus clipped. “Do you have less obvious question for me to answer?” 

“No questions.” Anderson smirked. “I’m here to give you fair warning. Derrick Moss, as I’m sure you have noticed, is a world-class liar. A wise man would never trust the words of a deceiver.” 

As pompous and self entitled as the man seemed, Marcus had to admit he had a point. He saw the transformation Derrick took. He was flawless. There was no way to tell how deep the lies went with him. Still, Anderson was another perfect liar. 

Marcus didn’t have anything to say, so Anderson continued.

“There are reasons we’ve taken so many drastic precautions to keep him in line. He’s been diagnosed with multiple mental illnesses.”

Mental illness could account for how easily Derrick switched personalities, Marcus supposed. 

“We’ve tried to help him,” Anderson sighed. “But he only hurts the people around him. He’s necessary for our political agendas, which is the only reason why we haven’t had him committed. Without him all of which we’ve built would be lost.” 

That didn’t seem like the best excuse to keep a mental patient away from help, Marcus thought. But he understood using people. Still, the torture seemed a bit extreme.

“He brutally murdered his last guard,” Anderson answered Marcus’s thoughts. “Which is why he had to be punished. He needs structure.”

The words were delivered with such raw sincerity that Marcus wondered if he was surrounded by professional bull-shitters. 

“Structure.” Marcus echoed. “Sure.” 

“Yes.” Anderson gave him a smile most people saved for dull children. “I can see you will be a great asset to us. Catherine was quite impressed with your lack of hesitation earlier. Our previous guards weren’t as willing to harm Derrick at first, but it is necessary. He only understands pain.” 

A ping of guilt struck through Three’s heart. The others had hesitated? He hadn’t. Why would Derrick offer to help him? If Marcus were in Derrick’s situation, he’d hate the person who didn’t pause to think about causing him harm. Marcus would want to hurt the person who hurt him. Maybe Anderson wasn’t lying after all. Maybe Derrick was conniving. Maybe anything Derrick did would eventually result in his revenge.

It didn’t matter. Marcus didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to figure things out. 

“I’m not going to listen to any lies.” Marcus promised. The promise was a blanket for anyone on the spaceship. It was becoming clear that everyone on this boat was untrustworthy. Marcus needed to do what he was told and keep his eyes open for his own exit. There was no need to get close to any of these psychopaths – let alone trust a word they said. 

Anderson didn’t catch the underlying meaning, or chose to ignore it. “I’m relieved to hear that.” The taller man smiled brightly. “He is quite clever, but I can see you are a man of intelligence. You won’t allow yourself to be fooled.”

There was something about the way the words were presented that made Marcus feel incredibly insulted. 

“Thanks.” Marcus managed and stepped aside – a subtle hint that he was ready to be left alone again. Anderson was an asshole, but Marcus could appreciate that he had brought a bit of light to the situation. Derrick had no reason to help him. Derrick was likely insane. Derrick was not a friend. Marcus was on his own – like usual. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” Anderson thankfully took the cue to leave. He stepped towards the door but didn’t go through before he turned back. “My assistant Megan will be by tonight to hand you a schedule and your guardian handbook. It is up to you to make sure that Derrick is on time to each event. I’m sure you understand.” 

Marcus nodded and calmly did not scream ‘get out’ at the man. 

“Okay.” Marcus kept his voice level even though his frustration raged inside his head. Finally, Anderson smiled and left the room. 

Megan – that must be the ‘Meg’ Derrick had mentioned earlier. It had to be a coincidence that Anderson had asked her to give him information. Or Derrick simply knew that Anderson would ask Megan to bring him information and used it to build his lie. 

So many possibilities, but again, none of it mattered. 

Keeping note of who was crazier than who seemed like a smart thing to do. Ryo would be proud – all that ‘know thy enemy’ bullshit. 

The door chimed and Marcus was tempted to ignore it. After the second chime Marcus reluctantly opened it. 

A small woman with dark hair walked into the room. As soon as the room doors slid shut the pixie of a girl turned a furious green glare onto Marcus. She had a vaguely familiar look about her – pale. 

“You didn’t even hesitate!” The woman snapped. 

Marcus raised an eyebrow, half expecting to be slapped. 

“You asshole. Catherine’s been gushing about you all night!” The small woman continued, pacing around the room before she stopped before the door leading into Derrick’s room. 

Maybe Derrick was getting some on the side? Marcus frowned. 

“It didn’t really seem like I had much of a choice.” Marcus pointed. “Besides, that doctor-guy healed him – problem solved.” 

“No, not problem solved!” The woman, Marcus guessed was Megan, nearly shouted. “You’re new, so I don’t expect you to get this right away, but that thing – machine – whatever the hell it is, doesn’t mask the pain. It’s still there. The skin is fixed, flawless, but the damage to the muscles is still there – not repaired. Basically it makes him look pretty enough to be on display, but leaves him in excruciating pain.” 

Marcus frowned and laughed darkly. “You’re in on it, huh? Damn, you all are amazing liars.” 

“Liars?” Megan was taken aback. Marcus could see her fitting pieces of a puzzle together in her mind. “Anderson talked to you.” 

“Yep, the jig is up. I give Derrick props on getting someone small and feisty like you involved, but I’m not buying what your selling, sweetheart.” 

“Damn.” Her face fell and she shook her head. “I had hoped – ” She glanced back towards the door. “Why he wants to help you – ” Megan let the thought fade as she slammed the file she had been carrying into Marcus’s chest. “Read it. Don’t read it. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Giving up so soon?” Marcus found himself asking. 

The look of utter defeat he saw cross over the once friary expression was surprising. “It’s been over two years of hell. With or without your help, Derrick is going to find his freedom.” The underlying sadness left a big question mark in place of Megan – who walked away without another word. 

It didn’t matter. 

With a frustrated sigh Marcus moved towards the desk in the corner of the space and sat down. He set the contents of the folder down on the desk. Marcus started to skim the first sheet of paper, or plastic. Marcus frowned and realized that it was a holographic page. The technology cost a pretty penny, but it saved companies from having to buy paper in bulk. The plastic showed the print like a piece of paper would, but each sheet was downloaded with different information. 

The first sheet Marcus picked up wasn’t his contract, but the agenda Anderson had promised. The next appeared to be the guard’s handbook Catherine had talked about during the initial meeting. Lastly, and most importantly in Marcus’s mind, was the contract. 

“Damn it all to hell.” Marcus breathed when he found the paragraph he was looking for. ‘Once the contract is signed the signee will work for Catherine Moss until she deems the signee unfit to do so. If she deems the signee unfit he or she will be terminated once a replacement has been found.’

Asking Catherine nicely if he could rejoin his crew of mercenaries was out of the question. Marcus growled and set the contract aside. He’d have to escape when he saw an opening. Preferably before Derrick Moss managed to exact his revenge. 

Marcus picked up Derrick’s schedule next. Since escape would likely take time, Marcus figured he needed to play the game and join in with the bullshit masters. The first thing he needed to do was to be very good at what they asked him to do. So far, that required him to make sure that a certain lying billionaire arrived on time to the places he needed to be. 

The list Megan had provided was impressively long and detailed. Derrick’s day was packed full of meetings and photo-ops. No wonder the psychopath wanted to rest up. 

With a growl Marcus pushed the sheets away. Something flickered. Curious Marcus picked up the malfunctioning sheet and frowned. It wasn’t malfunctioning at all – there was another page attached. 

The message that was written was in letter form. It was for Derrick. 

Derrick, 

I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you before you were dragged to the dungeon. I made sure they didn’t just space Vince’s body, just as you ask. I don’t know why you cared about the bastard. He has been boxed and will be shipped back to his home planet in the morning. 

The new guy has already proven himself to be just as bad – if not worse – as Vince. I don’t know why you want to help him. I’ll do what I can to help you. Please don’t do anything rash without speaking to me first. 

Your Cousin, 

M

Cousins. Marcus frowned and tapped the sheet. It took him a few tries to figure out the right sequence before it changed back to the contract. Megan had brought the sheet specifically for Derrick. 

It was actually a clever way to pass notes in class. There was no need to speak together or be suspicious, the information hidden unless you accidentally stumbled upon it. There was no reason for anyone else to handle the sheets other then the cousins. Derrick could sign something and read a note within the same space of time and no one would be the wiser. 

Clever. 

Marcus frowned. Why would Megan want to communicate with a mentally ill man? Maybe Derrick had tricked her. Cousins – blood was thick. She would know him better than the others. Maybe – maybe he could use the information to gain some leverage over Derrick. Granted it wouldn’t matter if Derrick’s insanity had also stripped him of his emotional connections to other humans. Derrick could see her as a mean to an end, leaving her in the way if cornered. 

With another sigh Marcus dropped the sheet on the desk and stood with a stretch. He wasn’t getting involved anymore than he needed to be. He couldn’t afford to get swept up into the drama. Besides he needed to get to sleep – his day matched Derrick’s.


	4. Chapter 4

In the morning Marcus ran his hands through his hair until it looked somewhat passable. He was tired, but he had slept decently enough. The bed he’d been assigned was surprisingly comfortable. Without a reason to put it off any longer, Marcus knocked on the door leading into Derrick’s room. 

“You’d better not be naked.” Marcus grumbled as he punched in the code to unlock the door. 

Derrick sat on his bed hunched over a book, suited and ready for the day. “Good morning.” Derrick looked up and gave a flicker of a smile. He picked up the bookmark lying next to him and placed it between the pages before he shut the book and set it aside. 

“Yeah.” Marcus frowned. “Are you ready for – ”

“The meeting this morning? Yes.” Derrick stood up and grabbed a briefcase off the desk in the corner before motioning for Marcus to lead the way out of the room. 

Marcus narrowed his eyes warily at his charge. Derrick seemed harmless, but Catherine Moss carried herself like glass. Nothing was as it seemed among these people. Marcus vowed not to trust anyone or anything. 

“Sure.” Marcus reluctantly turned and led the way out of the two rooms and into the hall. “I don’t know where to go – ”

“It’s fine.” Derrick glanced down the hall and then back at Marcus. “Did Megan give you a copy of your contract?” 

“Yes.” Marcus answered tightly. “I also found her little note to you.” He added after they started walking together, shoulder to shoulder. Marcus took pleasure in watching Derrick stumble a step. 

“Note?” Derrick echoed. “What – ”

“You’re a better liar than that.” Marcus said without missing a beat. He grinned obnoxiously and looked sideways at his companion. 

Derrick nodded grimly, accepting he had been caught. “It’s the only way we can communicate freely.” The younger man explained. He looked both pained and panicked. “Catherine – please, I beg you – ”

“You’re not the only one who can lie like a winner.” Marcus hissed through smiling teeth. 

“Right.” Derrick deflated. 

“But if you want your cousin to stay on Catherine’s good side,” Marcus threatened lightly. “I suggest you don’t mess with me and do what I say.” 

Derrick looked both frightened and uncertain, but slightly dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “Agree to agree.” 

“Yes. I like that. Agree to agree. Glad we’re on the same page.” Marcus slapped Derrick across the shoulder. The man gave a startled cry of pain and flinched away, running into the hallway wall beside him in his haste. Marcus stopped and turned back to the younger man as he recovered. 

Still in obvious pain, Derrick straightened out and rolled his shoulders slowly. “Still tender.” He explained when Marcus raised a questioning eyebrow.

Marcus frowned, but took note that Megan’s description of the flaw in the healing device seemed to ring true. 

“Don’t doddle.” Marcus said and motioned for Derrick to continue. 

“Right.” Derrick nodded and led the way in silence. 

__

Marcus didn’t think he could die of boredom, but he was starting to change his mind. He was dying slowly. This was worse than torture. Meeting after meeting he attended and stood in the back of the room. How did Derrick do this day in and day out? Even the billionaire yawned when no one was looking. 

Finally they broke for lunch, but Derrick headed back to his room. 

“Uh, food?” Marcus asked as he followed the billionaire. 

Derrick glanced back with a confused expression. “What? Oh. I don’t get lunch.” Derrick shrugged. It was normal for him. Marcus grumbled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Catherine will send you something. I can try and get someone to bring you something.” 

“You didn’t have breakfast.” Marcus pointed out. He did his best not to sound concerned, but damn, did Derrick ever get to eat? Marcus thought back to Derrick hanging in the torture room and how his ribs were so visible. 

“It’s not a big deal.” Derrick shrugged. “There are no meetings for the next couple of hours. I assume you’ll lock me in my room?” 

“Yep.” Marcus answered after a beat. He hadn’t really thought to. Now that they were out of those boring meetings he’d kind of hoped to talk to someone. Even if it was just to argue. 

Talking to Derrick didn’t seem to be the best idea, but it was apparently the only viable option. 

“Is there a rule where you can’t eat?” Marcus raised an eyebrow. 

Derrick frowned and tipped his head to the side in thought. “Well, not specifically. Usually I only am allowed a meal if Catherine sends something to me. Asking for something from her usually doesn’t end well.”

“But you can ask for one for me?” Marcus narrowed his eyes. 

“The other guards were allowed to eat.” Derrick shrugged. “I doubt we’ll, I’ll have to ask.” 

“Right.” Marcus drawled the word suspiciously. 

Derrick simply shrugged a shoulder in reply. They arrived at their rooms and Marcus motioned for Derrick to enter first. His charge did so without hesitation and immediately headed towards his room – the door still open from that morning. Bored, Marcus followed him in. 

When Derrick realized he wasn’t alone he turned back to Marcus and frowned, stumbling back a few steps. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Marcus chuckled. 

“You’re bored.” Derrick realized and Marcus nodded. Derrick didn’t appear to know what to do with that bit of information, but nodded back and sat down at the desk after setting his briefcase down on it. “I don’t know many card games, but I think I still have the deck Megan gave me.” Derrick tried. 

“There’s nothing around that I’d want to win from you.” Marcus shrugged a shoulder and left his hand on the handle of his gun to rest casually. He smirked when he saw Derrick’s eyes watch him. It seemed the lack of trust went both ways. 

They were dancing a very complicated and brilliant dance. Neither of them were leading – not really. Marcus had the upper hand, but there was no telling how long it would last. Derrick was clever enough that he could retake it – especially if he was a sociopath who was heartless enough to sacrifice his cousin. So far, Marcus couldn’t see Derrick going out of his way to harm anyone. 

Of course, it could all be part of the act. 

“Okay.” Derrick sighed and looked over at his book longingly. It took Marcus a moment to remember what Derrick was responding to. 

Curious, Marcus picked up the book from Derrick’s bed and glanced at the cover. He expected it to be some sort of boring biography of some dead rich person or equally dead political person. Instead he found that the book was fictional, an adventure. 

“Not exactly what I expected.” Marcus commented and handed the book over. Derrick took it gratefully and shrugged. 

“I live vicariously.” He explained with a hint of sadness woven in with the words. Maybe more than a hint, Marcus corrected himself as he caught that look of longing once again. 

“What, being tortured and trying to make your grand escape is boring for you?” Marcus smirked – knowing that he was being a bit of a jackass. 

Derrick seemed to take his sarcasm in stride. “At least the characters in the book get their happy ending.” He smiled kindly and Marcus glared back. 

“That’s fiction for you.” Marcus said. 

Derrick nodded and glanced down at the closed book in his hand. The two fell into an awkward silence. Neither of them knew what to say – at least Marcus didn’t. 

“What did you do, before you came here?” Derrick asked curiously. His shy expression screamed that he was a little afraid to ask the question, but not enough to stop himself from asking. 

Marcus wasn’t about to tell a possible psychopath anything that he might be able to twist against him. “I was a smuggler-pilot traveling around the galaxy with my furry companion. We got on the wrong side of a few very bad people. Somehow I ended up giving a ride to an old man, a kid and a couple of stupid robots.”

“Ah.” Derrick smirked and looked back down at the book in understanding. “Should I call you Han or Mr. Solo?” 

“Saw that one, did you?” Marcus grinned. 

“Read it, actually.” Derrick shrugged. “I get it, I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Yeah well,” Marcus glanced around the room casually. “Don’t do it again.” 

“Right.” Derrick said.

Marcus could see there was a mountain of questions below the tip of the iceberg that had been presented. It would take a lot more time then they had for Marcus to begin to trust Derrick enough to offer up such information. Derrick’s curiosity would have to be satisfied some other way. 

A chime alerted Marcus to someone being on the opposite side of his door. Without a second glance in Derrick’s direction he headed through the door joining the rooms together. 

Food awaited him outside the door. A man held a tray and handed it over to Marcus with a nod. 

“I’ve been asked to remind you of Mr. Moss’s tight schedule.” The man told Marcus. “Also, Catherine has asked that you not share your meal with Mr. Moss as he has chosen to fast for the remainder of the day.” 

Marcus narrowed his eyes at the stranger, but nodded. “Has he now?” 

The man gave a little bow before heading back down the hall and on his way. 

With a sigh Marcus had the door shut and glanced down at the tray he’d been given. The food was rich and fresh – things he wasn’t used to seeing at mealtime on the Raza. With a grin he glanced towards the door adjoining the two rooms and noted that Derrick hadn’t followed him out. 

Setting the food on his desk he moved to the door and closed it, setting the lock so that Derrick was effectively trapped inside.

With a grin of excitement Marcus sat down at the desk and started to dig into the food he’d been given. There was a noodle mixture that tasted both sweet and tangy – Marcus thought he might be in love with it. The vegetables were even delicious - buttery and salty. 

Halfway through the meal Marcus found himself glancing towards the door. Derrick most certainly did not ask to fast for the day. Wrinkling up his nose, Marcus frowned at the door remembering how Derrick’s skin had wrapped so tightly around the man’s ribcage. 

Starvation and torture. It all seemed a little extreme abuse against a mental patient. 

It wasn’t any of his business. 

It wasn’t. 

At all.


End file.
